


Just Friends

by WildKitte



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (for kuroo), Crying, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pining, Post-Graduation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 21:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20477471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildKitte/pseuds/WildKitte
Summary: Kuroo is moving away tomorrow.It’s when they are sleeping, like this, and the world is just this room and the two of them, Kenma listening to Kuroo snoring softly,just friendsbecomes unbearable.





	Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrenrouge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenrouge/gifts).

> For Wren <3 thank you for the wonderful prompt and keeping my kuroken feels alive! This was a fun one to write and I had a lot of feels.

Kuroo is moving away for university tomorrow.

The graduation ceremony is over, he got his acceptance letter to university weeks ago, found an apartment and packed his stuff. Granted, he’s not moving  _ far _ away – but it’s enough to stop them from seeing each other every day.

Which is why the situation is this: Kenma lies on the floor on a mattress, listening to Kuroo’s breathing in the dark, and tries not to think about tomorrow or future of any kind for that matter. He just listens, to the little sounds Kuroo makes in his sleep, the ticking of the clock on the wall, to his own thundering heartbeat.

Kuroo insisted on putting their futons right next to each other. He wouldn’t take the bed and Kenma’s heart wouldn’t take the idea of them sharing it, screeching to a halt and then to a panicky gallop at the very thought of it. They ended in a compromise – sleeping side by side.

It’s when they are sleeping, like this, and the world is just this room and the two of them, Kenma listening to Kuroo snoring softly,  _ just friends _ becomes unbearable. 

  
  


Kenma concentrates Kuroo’s breaths – they’re heavy and even. It’s safe to turn around to face him.

The sheets rustle as he rolls over. The blinds aren’t shut properly, and the faint glow of a street lamp is casting light on Kuroo’s face. He looks serene in a way he normally doesn’t, his lips pouting as he mumbles quietly in his sleep. Kenma maps Kuroo’s face with his eyes, taking in his features. This face is so familiar, like his own that stares back at him in the mirror. Precious. Kind.

_ I’m always this kind _ , Kuroo likes saying, half-joke half-serious. Kenma agrees. He  _ is _ kind, in a deeply honest and selfless way that even Kuroo himself doesn’t always realize.

“I’m always this kind,” Kuroo says and Kenma thinks  _ yes you are _ and rolls his eyes because Kuroo can never know.

Now that he’s about to go away he feels conflicted whether he should’ve told him earlier. That he  _ is _ kind and he  _ is _ gentle, and he  _ is _ smart and he  _ is _ hardworking and he will be okay wherever he goes because he’s just so good.

Kuroo sneezes. Kenma hates that it’s adorable.

He keeps counting the seconds that tick by. In eight hours Kuroo will go and time is slipping through his fingers.

Kenma swallows and clears his throat quietly.

“Kuroo?” he half-whispers, and his voice breaks a little. Kuroo shifts and buries his face between his two pillows.

“Kuroo?” Kenma tries one more time but can feel his courage sinking.  _ This is stupid. Don’t wake him up _ .

Fear nags in the realistic part of his brain. It is so easy to get lost in a big city, it is easy to forget to look at the new messages and end up living in parallel planes of existence with just the memories of what used to be. Avoiding eye contact comes naturally to him – losing contact is effortless. 

He thinks so much – it’s easy to picture it happening, in his overactive brain. He watches Kuroo’s back rising and falling with his breaths and his fingers twitch with the need to touch him, to make sure he’s here, for now, for just a couple more hours before their paths diverge in the light of the morning.  _ It doesn’t have to _ , reasons a part of him. But it just might. It just might. 

Kuroo might find someone. Someone who is lively and bright, like him. The small boy who cowered behind his father is gone, ebbed away by the years he spent building confidence, becoming loud and boisterous and kind. So maybe he finds someone, a beautiful girl with a wide smile, a handsome boy who makes him laugh, and his eyes light up different when he sees them.

It makes his chest ache.

_ Oh _ , Kenma thinks and turns to stare at the ceiling.  _ It’s not usually that strong. It hurts now. _

Carefully, Kenma sits up and leans his cheek on his knees. He wants to close his eyes, but he doesn’t want to sleep yet, just watch Kuroo endlessly until his time is up. His best friend is a noodle – all long limbs and ridiculous hair – but right now his back looks broad and dependable and Kenma wants to rest his head between his shoulder blades, feel his warmth and memorize his scent, imprint him in his mind forever. They touch a lot, Kuroo loves bumping into him and leaning to his side, slinging his arm over his best friend’s shoulders, teasing him that he  _ needs to eat more, or you’ll never grow big  _ and not listening when Kenma argues about genetics. Kenma never initiates it, but now his arms feel so empty. His hands twitch in his lap and then settle back, habit fighting back the impulse to reach out, and he just inhales sadness in his lungs as it gathers over him like a cloud.

It feels like rain in the air, and a sniffle betrays him. He wipes his nose lazily and blinks, his vision suddenly blurry.

Tomorrow he is going to lose his best friend. He is going away, and it will not be the same, and Kenma already misses him so much. It’s crushing his ribs from the inside, clawing at his throat with another dry sob as he tries to hold it back. No more train rides together, no more stupid arguments over which lunch to pick, no more Kuroo sneaking in through the window, even when he knows he’s welcome any time, because he knows Kenma keeps the window open for him and will never lock him out, even when it’s pouring cats and dogs outside or the thunder makes his entire body tremble. Because out of the darkness in climbs a boy with unruly hair, holding his heart in his hands and smiles. And now Kenma will lose the shine of that smile to another place, to someone else who will get to know his kindness and how he takes his tea.

There will be a day when he calls, and Kuroo will see his number and deems it not good enough.

The tears are effortless and bitter, and he’s a little angry at himself for it, at his runny nose and hiccups and the tremors traveling through his body. He watches Kuroo and cries, already letting go.

And then Kuroo shifts, and sighs, and stretches. And turns on his back again. Kenma is frozen, tears still rolling down his cheeks now that the dam has broken. Kuroo’s lashes flutter, and so does Kenma’s heart, and then he opens his eyes and looks Kenma in the eye.

“Kenma?” 

Kuroo’s voice is raspy with sleep and Kenma’s body betrays him – his throat hiccups with another sob and his face crumples. 

He can’t believe the audacity – tears are welling up again in his eyes.

“Hey,” Kuroo says, alarmed but soft and gentle, as the sobs finally fight their way up Kenma’s constricted throat. “Hey Kenma…”

“I don’t want you to go,” Kenma blurts out and then screws his eyes shut. His voice is so loud in the quiet of the night. “I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to be so far apart.”

Kuroo is still bleary from sleep, but his eyes go wide at the confession. He shifts to lean on his elbows and reaches out, fingertips ghosting on Kenma’s forehead and then slide in his hair – soft, still so soft, slow and kind like with a small animal that is afraid of movement, and Kenma leans into it, his heart all heavy. Kuroo doesn’t seem to mind waking up in the middle of the night to comfort him, and Kenma’s chest squeezes with how much he _ loves him _ .

“Nothing will change.” Kuroo sounds so certain.

“Yes it will.”

“No it won’t,” Kuroo says with finality, searching Kenma’s eyes with his own until Kenma stops hiding and opens his eyes. He blinks tears from his eyes – he hates this, his body betraying him when he needs to be strong and mature.

But something defiant rises within him, spite.

“My best friend is going away. I’m allowed to cry.” He sounds like a petulant child, he knows, but it makes Kuroo smile so all is good.

Kuroo sits up to get on his level and Kenma misses his fingers as they leave his hair, but Kuroo leans to his side, bumping him lightly and then letting their arms stay like that, touching.

“Yeah.” He looks at the ceiling, and his hair is such a mess, and Kenma hates him. “It’s going to be weird. I’m going to miss you.”

Kenma snorts, an ugly sound, and says bitterly: 

“Not for long. You’ll find interesting people. People who you’ll like more.”

Kuroo looks at him and just stares for a moment. His gaze is unnerving – it’s sharp and knows too much, mapping Kenma’s face.

“Do you really think that?”

It’s like he’s disappointed. Frowning, Kenma stares back. He doesn’t want to answer, but Kuroo knows him too well and interprets his silence correctly. He lets out a weak laugh and runs a hand through his hair, it’s so messy and Kenma wants to sink his hands in it, just to touch it one last time.

“Kenma, you are…” Kuroo starts and then clears his throat. “You are it. You are  _ it _ , okay? I will never find anyone like you, anyone who knows me like you do. You know that, right?” His smile goes all lopsided, like it does when he’s disappointed and sad but doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, because he’s kind, he’s so kind and caring and wonderful and nice, and Kenma can feel another sob trying to make its way up and he chokes it down with a wet sniffle.

“I know I’m nothing much.” Kenma hates how his voice wavers.

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, and this time his smile is genuine.

His eyes are so full of it, it drips on him like honey and he wants to just stay here, in the dark, forever.

“Kenma, you are everything.”

He means it, Kenma can tell.

And that’s it, that’s how the bastard does it and the tears come back full force, with the sobs and the snot and Kenma is a blubbering mess now, because he hates him,  _ he hates Kuroo so much _ , he…

“I don’t want you to go. I want you forever.”

Almost moronic, how his best friend’s face goes all bright and stupid, and when Kuroo cups his cheeks Kenma meets him halfway.  _ Just friends, just friends _ , his brain mocks him because Kuroo’s lips are soft and pliant when Kenma kisses him back with the ferocity of months of bottled up feelings, and the way Kuroo answers, greedy and grateful, tells him that maybe he’s been stupid too, leaving his best friend waiting like that.

“I didn’t know,” Kenma whispers against Kuroo’s lips, and Kuroo’s breath on his face is intoxicating. “I didn’t know it could be like this, not before Hinata, only then it started to make sense.” Kuroo nuzzles his temple, and maybe Kuroo has waiting for him longer than he thought. He pulls Kenma to lay down, plopping down on the futon and pulling Kenma on him, squeezing him tight in his arms, as if to merge them together into one warm heartbeat.

“I’m going to visit. I’ll call you every day, I want to hear your voice.”

“Don’t call every day.”

“I’ll call every day.”

The thought is nice and Kenma burrows closer to him. He can almost feel Kuroo’s heart beating fast against his own chest. He wants to put his ear over it and listen, make it drown out the clock and the morning birds that will surely chirp outside soon, pulling them closer to the moment of separation.

But not yet.

So Kenma sleeps.

  
  
  


_ end _

**Author's Note:**

> Idk i like making Kenma cry
> 
> Come talk to me on twitter [@wildkitte](https://twitter.com/wildkitte)  



End file.
